Don't Take Me Apart
by OhGodsPoorNico
Summary: In a society where parents can 'Unwind' their kids, Blaine struggles to first escape, then survive as he teams up with Kurt, a runaway who isn't talented enough to be kept alive. UP FOR ADOPTION, see details inside
1. Chapter 1

**So... this is a Crossover of Glee and my favorite book ever: Unwind, by Neil Shusterman. I reccomend you read it, but you don't have to to enjoy this. I don't own Glee or Unwind. The main pairing is Klaine, FYI. For those of you who have read the book, Blaine will be Connor, and Rachel will be Ariana. Other characters will be revealed as the story progresses. **

**Anyway... On with the story...  
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><p>Rachel sighed. "I'm sorry, Blaine," she said his name like it pained her. "I just can't." Her violet-specked-with-gray eyes shone with unshed tears.<p>

Rachel was the biggest fashion diva he knew. Pigment injections, colored pupils, odd piercing, as soon as it came in style, Rachel had it.

Blaine never understood the need to do things like that for fashion; if you did, he thought, it just showed the world that you were insecure. Blaine's eyes stayed the same hazel he was born with, and his skin paled or tanned with the seasons, not fashion trends

Rachel dangled her feet over the edge of the platform. Cars zipped beneath them, swishing in the rain and honking angrily at each other. It all sounded faded and muffled, as though they were separated from the rest of the world. Blaine liked it that way; it was his escape.

It was the place he went to after he fought with his parents, or just has a bad day in general.

Rachel was the only friend he had ever brought to this spot, though he wasn't about to tell her that (he would never hear the end of it if he did).

Not everyone was as accepting of Blaine as Rachel was, though. When Blaine had come out the previous year, he had not only lost many of his friendships, but also the relationship with his parents.

Really, it shouldn't have been such a shock when Blaine found the form, along with three tickets to Hawaii.

Three tickets.

Each had a name on it- Cooper Anderson, Mary Anderson, James Anderson. Where was Blaine's?

At first, he had thought that it was somewhere else, that his father had just misplaced it. He searched the other drawers, only to find his own Unwind form.

That was the first time Blaine realized he probably wasn't going to live past age seventeen.

He had wanted to hit something, or break something. He wanted to break someone, and Blaine was not a violent person. He knew, however, that beneath all of his fury, was a sense of misery and betrayal stronger than he had ever felt before.

He was going to shove it in his parent's face, and demand 'what is this'? Something stopped him, thought, and he knew that nothing could make them stop the juvey-cops from coming to take him. Once a form was signed, there was no going back.

Instead, Blaine decided to make them suffer quietly. He bought his mother a beautiful bouquet on Mothers Day, and she cried for an hour. He showed his father the 99% on his calculus test, to have him take a two-hour-long walk, returning with blank eyes.

The only person who he told all of this to was Rachel. "Let's run away together," she had suggested.

Running away with an Unwind? That was almost unheard of. If you were caught, you would never get any type of job, or get into any college. You would be regarded as a juvenile delinquent. Any life you had dreamed of would be out of reach.

If you weren't caught? The outcome wasn't much better. You would live off of table scraps, and you wouldn't be able to get any jobs because everyone would be on the lookout for your face.

Blaine had packed up his things (at least, everything he could fit into the bag he found in his closet) and dressed in all black. He left at nine, which left plenty of time to get to Rachel's house. Fifteen minutes later, he had knocked really quietly on her door.

Rachel had emerged wearing her favorite bathrobe- pink with stars on it. "Did you forget that tonight's the night?" Blaine had asked.

"No," she had said.

"Well, come on then, hurry up! Get dressed, we've got to go!"

Rachel looked pained. "I, I can't, Blaine," she said, barely louder than a whisper.

Blaine looked as if someone had punched him in the stomach. "What do you mean, you 'can't'?" He asked in a low voice.

Rachel opened her mouth, then closed it again. To Blaine, she looked like a guppy. The sound of a door opening upstairs made Blaine jump.

"Rachel," one of her dads called from upstairs. "Why is the door open?"

Rachel's dads, Hiram and Leroy Berry were two of the few people in their town who were legally mmarried.

"What's the difference between getting married and mmarried?" Blaine had asked Rachel when he first met her dads.

"The 'm'," she had said as if it were obvious.

Rachel called up the stairs. "Nothing, dad, I just thought I heard someone yelling and wanted to make sure they were alright." Blaine had to give it to her, Rachel was an amazing actress. The sound of closing doors told Blaine and Rachel that they believed her.

"I'm sorry, Blaine," she repeated. "I can't leave school, and who's going to take care of the glee club if I'm gone?"

"You were planning on dropping out of school as soon as you turned sixteen, anyway," Blaine said. "Why not now?"

"Testing out," Rachel corrected, sighing. "There's a difference."

Blaine shrugged his shoulders. "Fine, then. I'll just leave by myself. He turned to leave, but Rachel grabbed his arm and pulled him into a tight hug.

"Running away isn't the only option," She whispered into his ear. The embrace almost made Blaine want to stay, to face Unwinding just to keep their friendship. However, reality always ruined dreams, at least for Blaine.

"It is if you're an Unwind," he breathed hoarsely into her ear. "I'll miss you, Rachel."

With that, Blaine kissed her cheek and ran into the black night.

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><p><strong>Love it? Hate it? Let me know. Honestly, tell me what you think. Flames are okay, if that's how you really feel. Let me know! I want to make my story the best it can be, and I can only do that if you give me feedback. <strong>


	2. Chapter 2

Once Blaine had run about a mile and a half, he realized that he had no idea where he would go.

He couldn't take a train or bus, not because he didn't have the money, but because none began running until morning. He couldn't tale a taxi, it would look too suspicious for a teenaged boy out late at night all by himself.

He turned a corner, and found himself in a parking lot full of trucks: either a rest stop or a truck stop, maybe both.

Quickly, Blaine formed a game plan: he would get into the back of a truck, any truck would work, and go wherever it took him. The plan itself was simple enough.

He ran to the nearest truck and did a quick scan of it. It appeared empty, and it was big enough that he could be comfortable.

He tried the handle of the back, only to find it locked. Of course its locked, Blaine thought. I should have thought of that one. Suddenly, red and blue lights flashed through the parking lot. A man in a helmet and dark clothes could vaguely be seen driving it. A juvey-cop!

_They can't be looking for me, could they?_ Blaine wondered. _There's no way that they know I'm gone yet._ And yet, the car kept strolling through the parking lot.

Blaine made a split second decision. Eying the truck he had jet tried to get into the back of, he made a mad dash to the cabin. Thankfully (and quite suspiciously, as well), it was unlocked, and Blaine lunged himself into the passenger's seat and crawled behind it.

It appeared to be a miniature living room. There was a worn love-seat on one corner, an old TV in another, and a pile of duffle bags an the third.

He decided that he could probably hide behind the bags without being seen, at least for a little while. Before he could even take a step towards the bags, however, the driver's side door opened and a burly man stepped inside.

"Who are you? More importantly, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY TRUCK?" the man roared. Blaine backed away from him, stumbling backwards.

"I'll give you anything you want!" Blaine cried. He reached for his backpack and pulled out a wad of bills that he had taken fro his father.

"Money? Here's a lot of it! Just don't turn me into the Juvey-cops!" Blaine pleaded.

"I don't want your money," the man said gruffly. "Juvey-cops, eh? You're an Unwind?"

"Y-yes, sir," Blaine stuttered.

"Cut all of that 'sir' crap, okay? Name's Burt,"

"Blaine," he reached his hand out to shake Burt's. Burt stared at it like an alien gesture. Quickly, he shoved his hand back into his pocket.

Burt took a long stick from the side of the couch. "You see this?" he asked, twirling it between his fingers expertly. It spun faster and faster and faster until Blaine could barely see it. Burt then tossed it into the air, catching it with only two fingers.

"That's... Cool?" Blaine was a little bit unsure on how to react to this.

Burt chuckled, and rolled up his slightly greasy sleeve, revealing a line halfway up his forearm. Blaine gasped.

"A few years ago, I had a heart attack when I was at the wheel. Real bad accident. I lost an arm, a toe, a bunch of other random parts, and, obviously, my heart," Blaine unconsciously leaned forward, interested.

"Some kid had just been unwound, and I got all of the parts I needed from him. I don't even know how to twirl a baton, never even touched one. But, apparently, the kid did. Muscle memory, or so they say. Now I can do all of the things that he could do with his left hand. Pretty cool, huh?"

Blaine nodded. "Some guys would just take whatever you offer, and then turn you in. Obviously, I'm not that kind of guy. You can go crash on the couch. I need to go rule the porcelain throne, then I'll be right back. Sound good?" Blaine nodded again.

Burt walked out of the truck, gently closing the door behind him.

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><p>A minute or so had passed, and Blaine found himself dozing off. He was abruptly woken up by a voice yelling from outside.<p>

"Come out!" It demanded. "We know you're in there!" _Oh no,_ Blaine thought. _Burt really went back on his promise, didn't he. And here I thought he was a really nice guy..._

Reluctantly, he opened the door. Three Juvey-cops stood with their weapons pointed... Away from him, with their backs to Blaine? _Huh?_ Blaine thought, but then he saw another boy looking just as terrified as Blaine felt.

_Is that... Thad?_ Blaine recognized the boy from school. Was he being unwound too?

Thad's eyes widened as he noticed Blaine. His look of pure hopelessness turned into an expression of determination. He looked away from Blaine.

Suddenly, he steps away from Blaine, keeping the police's backs to him

Blaine had never been more grateful in his life. Thad had seen him, and he still hadn't given him away.

Realizing that he was standing there like an idiot, Blaine snuck back into the truck, closing the door silently behind him.

He sank back onto the love-seat, exhausted. He rubbed his eyes sleepily, to discover that they were wet. Some water must have hit him when he was outside, because Blaine Anderson did not cry.

His father always said that crying is a sign of weakness, and people found only hurt you if you show them that you are weak.

Now Blaine realized that his father was wrong. He never showed weakness, not since he was very little, and yet people continued to tear him down.

The names that were tossed at him daily, the glares that stabbed at his back, and finally, finding the Unwind form. Everything hateful done towards him hurt, but no one noticed. He hadn't let them.

He wondered what Rachel was doing right then. Probably dreaming about becoming a star, knowing her. Maybe she was practicing vocals, or drinking herbal tea.

Her life seemed so unreal now. Do some people really live like that? Not having to worry about being captured and 'not' killed, and having dreams beyond surviving the next month. It sounded like heaven, but was impossible for Blaine now.

Life for an Unwind was never easy. Blaine knew that. He couldn't live in denial forever, so why start now? He just had to worry about not getting caught by the Juvey-cops.

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><p>Blaine woke up to the sound of pounding of the door. The truck driver, of course, Blaine thought. I can't stay here forever. He got up slowly, stretched, and grabbed his backpack.<p>

"The ride's over, kid," came a deep voice from the other end of the door.

Blaine opened the door. He saw Burt... Getting handcuffed five yards away. The man in front of Blaine was a Juvey-cop. Oh no...

Blaine sprinted to the other side of the truck, and fumbled with the door handle when he crashed into the wall. He finally grasped it and flung himself out the door.

Taking a quick scan of his environments (a highway. Hm...), he dashed across the road. Thankfully, it wasn't terribly crowded, so he wasn't hit by anything.

Well, almost.

An old Ferrari drove close to Blaine, and he dove out of the way. The bumper smacked him in the foot. The car, trying to avoid him, swerved sideways, blocking the road.

Blaine sees teenage girl in the backseat, dressed in all white. She looks absolutely terrified. A tithe, Blaine thinks.

After a moment's consideration, Blaine makes a decision. Reaching through the open window, he unlocks the car, and opens the door.

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><p><strong>Well... Here you go. Disclaimer: I don't own glee or Unwind. If you haven't already, I reccommend you read the book this is based on, 'Unwind', by Neil Shusterman. However, it is not necessary to understand this story. It helps, though. Thanks for all of the great reviews, guys! I'm so excited!<br>**


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt had never been more nervous in his life.

Sure, there were times where he had been pretty anxious, like when he had to take the DAP (Dalton Academic Placement) Test to determine where he would be placed academic, or if he were smart enough to be kept at Dalton altogether, but it hadn't truly been life-or-death.

This recital was the turning point in his life. If he did really, really well, he would get to stay at Dalton State Home.

If he didn't, he would probably get Unwound.

Sure, he knew the Moonlight Sonata so well he could play it in his sleep, but it had to come to him that easily. It had to be as easy as breathing.

"Kurt Hummel," said the man to his left. "You're up."

Kurt straightened his silky blue tie. Feigning confidence, he strode across the stage and settled at the piano bench, positioning his fingers on the ivory keys.

He forced the audience out of his sight, focusing only on the grand piano in front of him. Nerves would not help his chances of survival.

Kurt pressed the first note slowly, as if testing it out, and others soon joined in, contributing to the melody.

He played with all the passion he had, and with some that he didn't. H was surprised at how well he was doing- maybe he would remain in an undivided state a little longer.

And then his f-sharp slid awkwardly onto a g.

_It's okay,_ he told himself. _A small mistake, it doesn't matter._ But somehow, it was the biggest mistake he could have made, and it mattered too much. He ruined his chance of staying at Dalton.

He was so distracted by his mistake that he made another. And then another.

Tears clouded his vision. He couldn't see! How would he be able to keep playing now? He blinked it away as best he could and kept playing like nothing had happened.

The show must go on, he thought.

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><p>Six mistakes. Kurt had made six mistakes. They were small mistakes, sure, but they were still mistakes, and he had needed to be perfect.<p>

His piano teacher, Mr. Shuester, greeted him as soon as he had exited the stage. "I'm so proud of you, Kurt," he said.

"I screwed it all up," Kurt said miserably.

"Hey, none of that," Mr. Shuster said. "You did great!"

Kurt knew he was lying. "I messed up six times," he said.

Mr. Shuster smiled. "You chose the most difficult piece you could do. Even an expert messes up once or twice. I look forward to the day I see your hands playing in McKinley Hall."

Kurt sighed. There was no use fighting him anymore. He yawned, and went up to bed.

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><p>Five days later, he was walking down the hallway to his afternoon classes when Trent, a fellow classmate, ran up to him.<p>

"Kurt! Headmaster Figgins is looking for you!" Trent panted. Obviously, he had been running for a little while.

Kurt frowned. _What could they possibly need me for?_ He wondered. Then it hit him. _The concert._

He forced a smile. "Thanks you, Trent," he said, then stiffly walked to the headmaster's office.

When he got there, there were three people waiting for him. The first was a middle aged Indian man with thinning hair. The second, a larger woman with her hair pulled into a tight bun. The last was a medium-skinned man with a shaved head.

"Wh-hat are all of these people here for?" Kurt stuttered.

"Kurt, please sit down," said Headmaster Figgins in his thick accent. "These are Ms. Zizes and Mr. Rutherford, your lawyers."

Kurt was confused. "Lawyers? Why do I need lawyers?"

Figgins sighed. "It is a necessary step for this kind of procedure."

_That didn't clear anything up,_ Kurt thought. "What kind of procedure?" he asked.

Ms. Zizes cut into their conversation. "I saw your recital last week. It was absolutely lovely. However, I must inform you that Dalton thinks you have reached your potential."

"There are babies coming in by the dozen, Mr Hummel," Mr. Rutherford added. "As a State Home, we are obliged to make room for all of them. Therefore, we need to cut seven percent of out teenage population."

Kurt frowned, realization dawning upon him. "I'm being unwound?"

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><p><strong>So I noticed some confusion over the term 'Unwind'. Reading back over my story, I realized that I never mentioned it. oops. Here is a definition I found on Wikipedia:<strong>

**...allowing parents to sign an order for their children between the ages of 13 and 18 years old to be unwound—taken to "harvest camps" and having their body parts harvested for later use. The reasoning was that, since 100% (actually 99.44% taking into account the appendix and "useless" organs) was required to be used, unwinds did not technically "die", because their individual body parts lived on...**

**Hope this helps. Also, if you didn't already figure it out, an 'Unwind' is someone marked for unwinding. **

**On a different note, thanks so much for all of the positive feedback! Sorry for the long wait, I had an algebra exam to study for...  
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	4. Author's Note

**Author's Note! **

**This story is up for adoption. I'm very, really, truly sorry, I just don't have time for it anymore. If you are interested in adopting, please PM me. **

**Thank you,  
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**Lea  
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